


Not an old man

by schrijverr



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Gen, Happy Ending, Jon is the youngest of the season one gang, Jon looks old, Light Angst, Season/Series 01, because i am projecting, having joints sucks, light chronic pain, takes place when they were all friends and sasha was still sasha
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-12
Updated: 2020-06-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:21:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24689053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/schrijverr/pseuds/schrijverr
Summary: This is about the fact that Jon looks like an old man, despite being pretty young. In this fic he is the youngest and the others find out after Tim ribs him a bit too much about being an old man, with light chronic pain thrown in.
Relationships: Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist & Tim Stoker
Comments: 30
Kudos: 265





	Not an old man

**Author's Note:**

> The day has come, after nearly a week of having no life I have finished The Magnus Archives!
> 
> You can find this work on my tumblr, also @schrijverr, as well. Hope you pop in and say hi, because I love talking to you all, so feel free to message me!!

Jon knew he looked old. His hair was greying prematurely, the stress had etched itself into his face and he dressed like he was eighty and wore glasses with retainers. So yeah, he looked old and he knew. Still that didn’t stop him from being 28 when he got the job as Archivist.

In the hope of not making people uncomfortable with his promotion at that age and because he didn’t think it any of his assistants would believe him, he kept quiet about being the youngest there. He also thought they wouldn’t appreciate that their boss was younger than them.

Tim was after him the youngest and used that fact to get out of doing tasks he didn’t want to. Jon kept telling him that age didn’t matter and that he had to do his job. Tom only replied that an old man such as himself wouldn’t get it and Jon grit his teeth as he told Tim to go back to work and just do the tasks he was assigned.

It didn’t help that his joints had a habit of rioting against him as well whenever he had sat still for too long. His knees would crack when he got out of a chair and his back and shoulders made horrible sounds when he stretched. 

Today wasn’t good a good day. He was sore all over, because he had fallen asleep at his desk and the stress about what Martin had told him was weighing him down. 

He looked terrible.

Tim hadn’t taken long to notice, grinning at him the moment he’d walked in. Jon wanted to ignore him, like he always did, but as stated before: today wasn’t a good day. 

He had nothing to record, so he was in the main room almost constantly, working alongside his assistants in the archive. They were hauling boxes to sort through and Jon was struggling with one box while Martin and Tim both could carry two at a time. 

Finally, it all came to a head when Jon had gracelessly put down one of the boxes and his elbows cracked in the process. He rubbed at it absentmindedly until Tim said: “I hear your joints are finally giving out, old man.”

It wasn’t even the worst Tim had ever said to him, but it snapped something in him. His joints always hurt faintly in the background and it sucked that there was nothing he could do about it. He had kept his mouth shut to make the other less uncomfortable, but he was done with it, just absolutely done. So he sniped back: “Thank you, Tim, for reminding me just how much my body is failing. I’ll have you know that it isn’t fun and you can shove your old man jokes up your ass, because I’m younger than you, you twat.”

Then he turned around and stormed off, needing just a bit of room to breathe. So he did what he found logical and locked himself into his office.

Tim blanked completely, only coming back online with the slamming of the door. He turned to an equally shocked Martin and Sasha and asked: “Did you hear what I just heard or was I delusional?”

“No, no.” Sasha said, “He told you to shove it up your ass and called you a twat. Jon ‘stuck-up’ Sims can swear.”

“Yeah that too,” Tim replied, “but that’s not what I’m talking about. He said he was younger than me, old geezer Jon. He can’t be younger than me, can he?”

“He told you to stop it with the insults about his age, Tim.” Martin said.

“You believe him?” Tim exclaimed.

Martin shrugged: “He doesn’t really have a reason to lie.”

“That’s fair.” Sasha agreed.

“Yes, he does.” Tim frowned, “He wanted me to stop, because he’s insecure about it, so he lied.”

“That sounds ridiculous.” Sasha told him.

“And beside that,” Martin said, “he sounded like it hurt that everything cracked, what did he say again? Uhm: ‘his body failing him.’ That doesn’t really sound fun, so even if he’s lying about his age, maybe you should stop if you’re making fun of something that’s hurting.”

While the three were arguing outside, Jon had collapsed onto the floor in his office and leaned against the door. He was curled into himself while he pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes as he tried not to cry. It was stupid, he told himself, it was stupid and now he had ruined the only sort of non-professional interaction he had. The thought didn’t stop countless of fruitless doctor visit to bubble up in front of his eyes and he pushed them away along with the tears that threatened to leak. It wasn’t even that bad, others had it much worse, he couldn’t complain. But still, it wasn’t fun and as much as he knew he looked old and didn’t mind the comments about his older appearance, the shitty jokes at the expense of his joints stung slightly.

He almost missed the faint knock on his door, but when it came again a bit harder he couldn’t ignore it. He bit out a harsh: “What?”

He could hear Tims sheepish voice through the door: “Uhm, I wanted to say sorry, boss. I should’ve known when to stop.”

Tim had realized how mean his remarks could sound, after Martins comment, so he had sucked it up and went to apologize. He was slightly concerned when Jons voice came from far lower than it should be, but decided not to mention it. Even when he heard a small voice ask: “Do you mean it?”

He nodded then realized Jon couldn't see him, so he said: “I mean it, Jon. Hurting isn’t funny, even if it was meant as a jab about your age and I should’ve known that. I took it too far.”

There was some shuffling on the other side of the door until it swung open to reveal Jon. His hair was a bit disheveled and his eyes were wet, although it didn’t look like he had actually cried. He looked vulnerable, despite his best efforts to hide it with a stern expression. He gruffly said: “Glad you learned that, although I might have overreacted slightly.”

His gruffness and emotional detachment didn’t really sound convincing with the state he was in. Tim rolled his eyes and pulled Jon into a side hug. He ruffled his hair and said: “You reacted just fine, boss. So, how old are you then, eh?”

Jon was starting to regret ever mentioning his age, but he silently handed Tim his wallet so that he could look at his drivers license. Tim squinted at the year as he tried to do the math. He began: “So that means you’re, uh…”

“28, yes.” Jon filled in.

Tim whistled: “Wow, I was way off, I had you up the forties.”

Jon had wrestled himself free from Tims grip and said: “I know, I don’t look it, don’t feel it too most of the time. I didn’t want to mention it, because most people find it difficult when their boss is younger than them.”

“Ahw, you can be human.” Tim cooed.

“Don’t let it get to your head or something.” Jon groused, but then he added carefully: “It’s not going to be a problem, is it?”

Tim shook his head and said: “No, I’ve got way more experience with picking on someone younger than me, don’t worry, you’re not getting rid of me that easily.” He blinked away the image of his brother and smiled at Jon.

Jon tried to fight it, but he couldn’t help but smile back. Then Tim looked back at the wallet and saw that there was a picture of Jon and his grandmother in it, so he did the only logical older-brother thing and called out to the others: “Who wants to see a picture of baby Jon!”

“No, give it back.” Jon yelled as he tried to lunge for it, but Tim was too fast and he was already showing Sasha and Martin. He made sure to hold it just out of Jons reach, something that was easy because of Jons short stature.

Jon grumbled about it for weeks later, but in the end it was nice. The others treated him more like they did the one another now that they knew he had grown up in the same years and they tried to be considerate when they saw him wincing when he moved.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, this is 100% me projecting onto Jon, but without the old bit, because I have a baby face and people think I’m a baby or something. But yeah, joints, not fun. Also not fun is that doctors don’t seem to know shit about them and it’s not bad enough for real action and I feel bad when I complain, so this fic was born. Oops. It was supposed to be lighthearted, but then my knees and back started to hurt and I thought fuck it! I mean, the nickname _The Teenaged Grandma_ is a lot less funny when you're lying in your bed willing your joints to stop hurting...
> 
> Also I'm too lazy to do math, so I made up a random number for Jons age -> edit: thank you to the people in the comments, who corrected me. It's changed now!
> 
> Anyway, I would open a random yellow door and walk through for Kudos and Comments, so if you leave any I love you and thank you so much <3


End file.
